Tag Archives: matrimony

We GOT Our Reparations…

If we ONLY knew what we were capable of...

If we ONLY knew what we were capable of…

 

It’s all in your mind.

We’ve been free since 1865, and REALLY free since 1965. Stop begging for reparations, because you are asking a THIEF to pay what he stole–he won’t. God has given us reparations, but you’re spending it on bull shit. Stop asking White Jesus for it; he’s ordained your pastors to live in million dollar mansions and to drive Bentleys and shit, so HE won’t give it to you. We already have our reparations: $1.1 Trillion worth.

If I hear one more brother or sister say we are not free, I’m going to fucking BUST. No one is stopping us from taking our money and doing what we need. But you gotta budget it. We are too wasteful, too foolish with our money, for God to hand you a check like he was fucking Santa Claus. If Negroes got $100,000 each today, by the end of the summer, 99% of us would be broke and the Koreans, Jews, Chinese, White folks, you name it–would be flossing with our fucking money. But that doesn’t mean we can’t write our own ticket to success and full freedom. Most of us sign away our wealth as soon as we have the credit to do so. Each time you drive a nice car on a car loan, you use your credit card to go on vacation, you finance jewelry or a house you really can’t afford–you are STEALING your children’s inheritance, in basically pissing away your reparations. The thing is, everyone knows it, and that’s why they put check cashing places, buy-here-pay-here, liquor stores, and everything else we don’t need right in our neighborhoods. I predict on the Day of Judgment, when black folks ask God why He didn’t give us reparations, He will have to put out a memo that He did, but we spent it on bullshit.

We are a hell of a lot freer than we were when slavery was legal. The Black community is like a lion in the circus, or better yet–a lion raised since a cub in someone’s back yard. We are Lions who think we’re puppies and this is why the white man has his foot up black asses. We have enough financial power. manpower, voting power to build or destroy any institution in this country. but as long as we keep thinking we’re still slaves, every ethnicity will pass us in social status and political power. we are worth 1 trillion dollars, and still begging for reparations. we have made damn near every industry in America rich, from nails to movie theaters to Nike to thrift stores to the aftermarket wheel industry to jewelry to education, yet we can’t keep a damned black owned corner store in our neighborhoods open 6 months.

We need to stop acting like ex negroes and take our place in this community. You know, when white folks say we cry, they have a point. invoke the struggle–but don’t use it as a reason for failure or worse–inaction. We are POWERFUL and we are FREE. we just need to act like it. we need to stop waiting on White Jesus or Uncle Sam to make it right, they won’t. God has already opened the door. We just too busy throwing chrome doorknobs on the mother fucker instead of walking through.

Take a look at his picture. It illustrates us well. We just don’t know what we are capable of.

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Filed under Message to the Black Man

Effective Civil Rights 101

You may have heard me say several times on this blog that the opposite of racism is not equality–it is prestige. “Prestige” as in “better than”. Prestige as in “Black superiority”. Prestige as in “Uppity Niggers”. Prestige as in “Reverse racism”. If you ever saw a Black man claim that there is no racism left or claim that racism is not a major obstacle for Black people, that Negro ain’t crazy… from his point of view, he may see something the rest of us don’t see.

Don’t get your panties all in a bunch yet; let me explain.

See, there is much truth to what that handpicked Negro is saying. I’m saying here that I agree with him to a point, but I disagree that he said it. What he is saying, when he claims that racism is a thing of the past is this:

Racism exists. But it cannot hold you back if you don’t let it.

Some of us give White America way too much power and way too much respect. There are many things we can do to eliminate the affect racism has on us, but we simply don’t do it. Now, I’m not suggesting we can escape its clutches in a 100% guaranteed, surefire way. No way–this is still the home of racism and prejudice. But if we do certain things, we can isolate it to areas where it can be contained and dealt with. So much of the racism that we encounter is simply OUR fault. Meaning, had we not done this–that wouldn’t have happened. Had we done more of that, this wouldn’t happen. If we dot our Is and cross our Ts, this country would have fewer opportunities to wield the racist stick at us and do what he enjoys doing the most. However, so many of us screw up–we play right into the hands of Willie Bobo himself, and it gives him great pleasure to do what he does.

And let me say this:  If we do our part, we make it very difficult for racist practices to be used against us. We will never eliminate it completely. That’s like expecting the Lion to be a vegetarian. What I am saying is if you want to avoid the Lion’s jaws, stay the fuck out his cage. A 17 year old tried as an adult on his first offense and given the maximum prison sentence wouldn’t be able to complain that the cop beat his ass and both attorneys and the judge conspired to ruin his life had that stupid mother fucker NOT shot another Black child. Capiche? This country is going to fuck with us. Just don’t make it easy for them, is all I’m saying.

So. What are the steps now to gaining, building, and maintaining prestige? I’ll tell you.

Who remembers how much White people hated Asians in the 1970s and 1980s? Yeah, after the Philippine Insurrection, the Korean War, Pearl Harbor, and Vietnam–White folks HATED Asians. Even Asians who had nothing to do with this shit. Thai, Indonesian, Okinawan–if you resembled anything labeled the “enemy” they hated you and wanted to kill your children. But what happened? I recall being called a “Chink” at summer camp when I befriended two Taiwanese boys who spoke little English, because I had lived in Taiwan and spoke Mandarin (okay, I’m half Filipino too. sheesh). Those boys who ostracized me for being friends with the “Vietnamese” boys learned that shit somewhere. In 1982, none of us were old enough to truly remember Vietnam or Pearl Harbor–they learned that bullshit from their parents. But today, we would all be in our 40s, and I guaran-fucking-TEE most of those same White boys wanted to fuck an Asian girl, a few might even be married to one, loves Asian food, watches martial arts flicks, has at least three or four Asian friends, and probably works with a few Asian guys, and get this:  Will raise their hand to God and swear on their mother’s grave that they were raised to see “no race” or some bullshit ass lie like that.

What happened? Why do White folks no longer hate Asians? When was the last time you even heard a White guy ranting about Asians or calling people Guks, slant eyes, or chinks? Where did that racism go? Did Asians protest or get a law passed? Did they form organizations like we did to combat that shit? Did they push for an Asian President, walk around in Asian clothing, get mad at Asian guys who fuck with White girls or Asian women who have children by White men? They were able to eliminate that racism, but we–in all our effort, been here 300 years longer–with all our money, celebrities, even our Negro President–you can be a law-abiding, college educated, peaceful, friendly, successful Black man, and in the eyes of the dirtiest, poorest, most illiterate White dude in the trailer park, you ain’t nothing but a common Nigger.

And this is why the Brother at the beginning of this article seems to be a tad bit mentally ill when he says “Ain’t no racism”. There will always be racism. Yet Asians aren’t stung by it. And I’m sure if a White dude who really hated Asians out here allowed himself to actually say, “What are you doing talking to that Chink?” 90% of the most racist White cats who hate Obama and love Trump would look at that dude and say “Mother fucker are you crazy?”  Cause he would be. Ain’t nobody tripping off Asians no more. So the question, my brothers and sisters is “WHY?”

Let me break it down:

  1. First, Asians do commit crimes. They prey on each other, too. But they do not highlight those who commit crimes. More energy is spent on the ones who don’t commit crimes–their children and academics, local businesses, cultural centers. We, on the other hand, follow our criminals to make sure they are “punished fairly”, we glamorize those who have been to prison, our kids look up to them, we embrace them, write songs about them, pretend to be criminals ourselves, we dress like them. Asian crime doesn’t represent Asians. Black crime is actually a part of our pop culture. Don’t get mad; I’m just calling it like I see it. Any time a brother with a job is seen by our women as less sexy than a brother with a record–we are in mother fucking trouble
  2. Asian communities are ethnic. They embrace their cultures–we look to erase it. Either that, or we let big business tell us what will be our culture. You mean to tell me a billionaire record exec can determine what’s popping in the streets? Hell no–but whatever they decide negroes will listen to–y’all MFs will buy it. Asians on the other hand, send their children to “Chinese school” so that cultures are lost. We make fun of Afrocentric programs, or marginalize them
  3. They humble themselves and sacrifice their generation to make way for the next. We dress up, buy nice cars–as soon as we have the money. Yet when we die, our children must hold car washes to bury us because we spent our money in our youth and didn’t leave them shit but bills. Each time a Black man buys luxury items for himself, while his children have no college fund, and no inheritance (via our own retirement funds)–we are actually stealing from our children’s future.
  4. We “love our children” buy dressing them in the latest fashions, buying them electronics, sell them a fantasy of being a professional athlete or future entertainer–while ignoring their education. We will buy $200 sneakers but think $80 is too much for math tutoring. Many Asian kids got through college under parents who have no education past grade school, some didn’t even speak English. Our children make fun of children who excel and exclude smart Black children from the race (“you talk so White”, as if Black children aren’t articulate too)
  5. Many Asians do not believe in credit or banks. They deal with cash, save money in safes and freezers. We apply for credit and live beyond our means. This is why they can open businesses and we can’t. We live for show. By the way, please don’t believe the bullshit that every Asian arrives in America to a government loan to open a business. If they do get a loan, do you know where it comes from? It comes from a family member who had saved money for years before they arrive. How many of you would loan your cousin $15,000 to open a shop? I didn’t think so.
  6. They pool resources. Entire families will run a restaurant, a store, sometimes two or three families will collaborate on a business. You can’t even stand your own relatives for a weeklong family reunion or  Thanksgiving dinner.
  7. Here’s something you may not know:  Asian families buy in bulk. My mother use to buy a whole cow, a hundred pounds of chicken, entire goats–with a cousin and her family, sometimes two. She and my cousin would buy an 80 lb sack of rice and split it. We often sent food back and forth between households. Babysat each others children while the other worked extra jobs. For a twenty year period, we almost always had a relative living with us. Everyone had money, even though we may have looked poor. Ijs!
  8. Politically, Asians look at politics as the White man’s game. Just stay your ass out of Chinatown. Asians know these guys have no love for them, and they don’t try to demand it neither. My mother use to warn me about complaining about racism: it’s like asking the tiger to be a vegetarian. Get yours, let him get his. Stay out of his pockets and he’ll stay out of yours. We haven’t learned that. We live here, and prospered most when we couldn’t go to his stores and lived in his neighborhoods. But now that we live in his neighborhoods, and you wonder why his police are fucking with you?
  9. If we could somehow stop 90% of our children from commiting crimes and instead focus on education, if we could stop our men from using drugs and drinking alcohol and solving problems by fighting–we could singlehandedly shut down the prison industrial complex. Like it or not, this is true. A judge can’t throw the book at you if you don’t get arrested. Sure, false arrests happen. But if none of us committed crimes, it would be far easier to isolate those instances when they happen. We must eliminate crime and crimespeak from our everyday language and actions. So many kids are playing gangsta, it’s hard to discern who is a real gangsta and who is just dressing like one!
  10. Asians don’t ask America for much at all. They may demand here or there when there is an injustice–and very often that demand is answered. More on this later. But other than that, Asians don’t demand jobs; they create jobs. They open businesses. They will get into every business thinkable. If you spend money on it, Asians will sell or provide it.
  11. But here’s the thing ^^ once it is known that Asians have a business–they automatically have a client base. A fiercely loyal, consistent client base. When was the last time a Chinese or Vietnamese came into your business and spent money solely with you?
  12. Speaking of which ^^ Asians don’t say stupid shit like we do along the lines of “See? This why I don’t spend money with other Asians!”
  13. I don’t care if you offer something cheaper than a Chinese or better than a Vietnamese–most of them will not go to you when their brother sells it
  14. And items #10-13 all go towards creating not just a geographic Chinatown. They create economic Chinatowns which shrink the size of any city where Asians are spread all over. In the 1980s, my mother would travel from Silver Spring, Maryland on the BUS to shop in Fort Washington, MD, just because it was the only Filipino store in town–until one opened in Wheaton (easily 30-40 miles). We as a people do not have that kind of discipline. We only had it when we the White man told us we couldn’t shop nowhere but Black owned stores. As soon as he gave us permission to buy from him–we busted through door like they had learned to bottle up sex or something.
  15. And that economic Chinatown is what empowered all Asian people who were a part of that community. Even in cities where there is no “Vietnamese Town”, the Vietnamese know where all the Vietnamese businesses are–and will cross Hell and highwater to shop there. This circulates the money made from one Vietnamese family to the next, over and over, until someone decides to break the chain and spend the money elsewhere. If you ever got in good with an economic community–you will quickly see how powerful they are, because you will have so much business even if you hated Vietnamese–you would learn to respect them and shut your damned hole. This economic community is more powerful than any protest or social media campaign. It may only represent 2,000 families–but we are talking each member of those 2,000 families and their incomes. And their votes. And their labor. And their spending power. And their ability to not spend with you. And their friends and their families. 2,000 families isn’t much, but you take 2,000 families working in unison–it is more powerful than an atomic bomb.
  16. Question, how much money do Black people spend on nails in a month? How much money do nail shops bring in each month? Why aren’t more of us opening our own shops? The school is only 10 weeks long. Do you know how much money a nail tech makes in a day? Hundreds, but you worried about a damned $15/hr job. For as much as Black folks spend on nails each month–damn near none of us have a shop. So we are throwing millions of dollars at that community, financing their kids college funds, financing their other businesses, their cars, their homes, their monthly budgets–none of which is spent in a Black business.
  17. Now, let’s replace “Nails” with everything else we spend our money on. Alcohol. Clothing. Cars. Phones and electronics. Insurance. Rent. Groceries. Gas. Day Care. You name it. How many of these businesses are Black owned businesses?
  18. And there, ^^ is the problem. There are Black businesses out there–but you aren’t patronizing them. You might go to work, but you are, I’m sure, making less than you’d make if you sold one of those products we spend our money on. We simply don’t. Why? Because opening a day care, buying an apartment building, selling alcohol (yuck, more on this later), selling groceries, selling insurance–is not in our plan.
  19. Asian communities, then, are 100% self reliant. You think Asians don’t like Black folks? Well guess what–Asians don’t like WHITE folks. And they will not spend their money with them, they don’t ask them for shit neither. They come here, and don’t even respect America enough to learn to speak the language like you’d like em to. On one hand, you can cuss em out, tell them their dick is small, learn to speak English, whatever. But the bottom line is that he is throwing you out of HIS business, and he will never do anything to benefit you, yet no matter what–you will still end up spending money to benefit HIM. White or black, this Asian is existing here in America without asking you for a damn thing, and his resentment for what y’all did to his family back during the war is irrelevant because he is mostly likely completely independent of most of us and none of us can hold him back from achieving his goals. And if the US gets to irritating for his taste, he will take his money and hop on a plane and go someplace else. For as much as Black folks love Africa and hate the White man–how many of us will board and plane and go? Yup. That’s why the white man has no love or respect for you; cause you in his house, he knows you are not independent of him, and you will always end up having to go back to him for something. Permission, justice, money–something. We are somewhat politically immature, you see, true racism is not words and insults and calling names. TRUE racism is how it affects lives. It is economic. It affects freedom. It affects health and whether you live or die. Remember that. So what these white folks don’t like you. Live your life so that their hate has zero effect on your pockets, on your household, on your life. Stop expecting the people that hate you to accept you. Integration is garbage. Learn to be independent.

We think prestige is a state job where you dress sharp and have a nice house, clothes and car. No–prestige is not needing your oppressor for a daggone thing. Prestige is having something your oppressor wants–your business, your money, your votes–and not giving it unless he does something for you. We have no prestige. You could be a millionaire Black man who is loved by many–and he will charge you with a crime and imprison you and no one will do a damned thing about it. That isn’t prestige, there is no price tag on it. It is a condition, a state of being.

No election talks about the “Asian voting bloc”. You know what Asians are getting involved in elections? Most likely, Asians with little connection to their culture and community. Most have never been to their parents’ countries, they don’t speak the language, they have 1/2 white children. Ethnic Asians know that no matter who is in office, Chinatown will operate the same, and it will not affect my income and lifestyle. The Civil Rights leaders of the 60s had a role:  they were combating human rights issues. We no longer have that same fight, the playing field is more level. Even when they were in the middle of their Civil Rights struggle, they did not protest; they withdrew to their communities and built lives without White folks. So there is no White support of Chinatown–who gives a fuck. We tend to invite them to interfere–excuse me, join–us in whatever we do, and we so badly have it wrong. Build our communities, strengthen our families, concentrate our power and efforts. That’s how you build prestige, and that is how you eradicate racism.

Bottom line:  Effective Civil Rights movement shouldn’t focus on this country or the White man. America will always be America, the White man will always be the White man. But we focus on ourselves, our families and our communities–we make it difficult for our enemies to attack us, and we make it easy for our allies to support us. You cannot ask a man who is feeding you or seeing you at your worse to treat you with respect and dignity. You can only demand it by being a people who is worthy of it. Most of us are worthy of respect. Too many of us are not. We have to turn our focus inward. Don’t ask him for anything, be independent, be strong, be united. When he is no longer needed to feed our people–and only then–we will have the opposite of racism. Remember I said this:  You can only hold down a people when they are not standing tall. Get off your knees, my brothers and sisters.

Thank you for visiting my blog.

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Filed under Message to the Black Man

New Category: Inspiration

If ever there was a bipolar blog, this might be it, to match MY bipolar personality. I have so much planned for this blog and, apparently, not enough time to make it happen. However, being the determined, driven man that I am–it will happen.

So here’s my latest. Everything that drives me–that I think may help drive you–that doesn’t fit into one of the categories already on this blog will get pinned right here. Mostly religious, but some non-religious. Self-help (I read lots of that). Psychology. Motivational. You name it.

I know some of you aren’t Muslim. But if you bend an ear to wisdom (not mine, but the wisdom of those who came before me), you may find out why Islam is the fastest growing religion on the planet. If you love me, you will have to understand Islam to understand me. I am a Sigma, but I am also the sum of my experiences and my religion is the language by which I define myself. Plenty of friends and family have asked me about my many marriages and why they failed to work, and one thing I’ve noticed as of lately is that where a woman fails to take interest in me–including this blog, upon which I explain myself–she fails to qualify herself as a mate for me. I don’t care how handsome or smart you think I am, how compatible you think we are, how good the dick is, or how pretty you think our babies will be–if you don’t understand what warms my soul and respect it, we can’t do business. You’d be surprised at how much in love some women profess to be who NEVER read this blog, despite that I place so much importance on it–even emphasizing that if she takes an interest, she will learn me faster than phone marathons. I can tell once I’ve introduced a sister (white chick, latina, etc.) to my blog, how they react to it will determine whether we have a fling or will have a strong soul connection. Shoot, I have exes who read this blog and the connection we have is a result of it.

Some say that the way through a man’s heart is his stomach, others say it’s through his dick (actually that’s the way to a boy’s heart)–but there are several ways to my heart:  through my brain, by osmosis through my skin, and going for the jugular–straight through my chest. Taking an interest in learning your man will endear you to him, trust me ladies. Find out what makes him tick and genuinely hit that button. Enjoy doing it. Whether it’s through food, sports, sex (wait, you said? yes but this is what I mean), his hobbies and interests. For me, the three things that excite me more than anything are my religion, my children, and my martial arts. Then a close second to it is my love of cultures and languages (including food and travel). Read this blog and you will find out.

I’m hoping that through AskAkamo you will be inspired to find yourself, and I have found myself.

Bookmark this page, subscribe to get updates, and stop by sometime. Thanks for visiting my blog.

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Filed under Inspiration

Monster

intricate roadmaps of scars

churn, swirl and twist, like

the vicious veins that torture unforgivingly

agonizing reminders of the monster I’ve become

so I hide behind prosthetic mounds of womanhood

ashamed to bare my pain

to those I hold dear

fear that it may frighten their innocent minds

or kill his desire

so I

carry these secrets to the grave

My Lord, couldn’t You save me

why have You forsaken me

refused to hear my cries:

disfigured

unbecoming

heart-swallowing

something’s missing

like Leroux’s angel of music

hideosity hides beauty

my bosom no longer blossoms

oh, what a bare-breasted beast,

half-woman i’ve become

carrying the shame of such unsightly monstrosity

wish i could tell him how much it hurt

*it won’t hurt if you touch me*

but i will hide her till the Angel comes for my soul

one day the sun will rise for me:

the pain

the shame

subsides

and–

maybe she will once again

feel

whole.

“monster”

 

beauty despite what's missing

beauty despite what’s missing

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Filed under Poetry

I Want You Back… #regret

I learned to use these #hashtags thingies on Facebook. Cool stuff, huh?

Anyway, periodically–and it never actually stops–one of my exes will call/email/text/send a message through mutual friend(s)… something to the effect of:

I’ve been going thru somethings (sic). I want you back

By the way ^^^ that was a real text. Don’t worry, this particular ex doesn’t read this blog. In fact, she never did; and that was one of the problems in our relationship. Her friends and family read it–but she didn’t have enough interest in me and the things that were important to me to ever read it. And let me tell you something. Through this blog, I have had groupies, fans, crushes, fall in love with me through this blog. My last blog totally endeared my ex to me, she is now a blogger who also takes public speaking engagements–and it began with her reading my work. I had given this ex a copy of my CD (a spoken word CD, if you want it, send $12.00 through Paypal using the “Donate” button on the main page sidebar) and she NEVER listened to it. Imagine that. You’re in love with someone and want to be with them apparently, but you don’t listen to or read their work. And keep in mind, this relationship lasted 18 months. Ain’t nobody that damned busy.

All kinds of signs, and boy can we be stupid. Oh boy can I be stupid. We do see them, don’t we? Just don’t heed them.

But enough about her. This article is about this very real lesson, that many just never learn from. It goes like this:  “The grass is, in fact,  greener on the other side. But only because that guy waters his grass.”

We could have the best thing we ever had; they could be beautiful, a great cook, intelligent, attentive, affectionate, caring, selfless, considerate, sensual, good for the ego, and most of all… They love us. They love our dirty draws, and nothing we do bothers them enough to discard the marriage or relationship. Yet for some strange reason, all we seem to notice is that their gut is getting a little big, her tits aren’t as nice as those the girl at the job has, their feet are crusty, his hair is thinning, her finances are thin… So we long for something–someONE else. Somebody we think is better, somebody more fun, a chick with a fatter booty, a guy with a bigger dick, somebody with a great credit rating. Our loved one is no longer a “loved” one, she now gets on our nerves. He spends too much time at your house, you wish the fool would go home, my favorite show is on. There’s all them cuties on Facebook and Tagged, and they require my attention…

Then one day, the one we love is gone. Yeah, now I’m free to smash. Smash the next door neighbor’s sister who’s been up on it since I moved in. Smash that security guard from the job who keeps buying you lunch. Smash that ex who swears the sex will be a marathon like “that one time”…. Life is good, isn’t it?  😉

It isn’t. At 1 a.m., when that new, exciting fling has gone home–or never spent the night because the newness of YOU wore off (just like the newness of your own ex)–you start to thinking about how badly she loved you. You feel bad about how you guys broke up, how she didn’t deserve it, or how happy he really made you. You think about how the quality of life has actually gone down the pipes because you no longer have someone who would sleep in the rain for you, give you their last dime, or how you were their Superman or Wonder Woman. You realize, like many, many exes:  “I fucked up.”

Yes, you did. You had a good thing and you ruined it. And don’t you dare say “I didn’t know what I had”, asshole. You knew what you had, you just never thought you’d lose it. You thought you could toss it aside, mistreat it, take it for granted, put it on ice–and then go back when you were ready. I’m sorry, life doesn’t work that way. One broken heart turns another. I’ve had my share of breaking hearts, and I’ve paid for it every single time. I’ve had mine broken more than anything, and I have foolishly dismissed playing with others because “After all I’ve been through, I deserve the right to play the heart-breaker this time.” Pure bullshit. That is the lover’s version of Israel’s foreign policy, I get to hurt others because others have hurt me. But like I said, life doesn’t work that way. Get it right the first time, because true love rarely affords you a do-over. Just learn from it, and get it right the next time.

We cheat, we ignore, we abuse mentally/emotionally/physically, we simply take them for granted. In the end, we dispose of a great relationship with someone who loves us deeply in favor of something where love may not even be a factor at all. We aren’t guaranteed to find this level of love again. In fact, if we betrayed our loved one, we probably don’t even deserve another true love. But what the hell do I know? I’m just a guy with 7 failed marriages.

repair a broken heartSo to answer my ex’s question (Mustafa, what do I have to do to get us back like it was before?), which she’d asked many times since we parted ways: Baby, you can’t. My heart is made of very fragile glass and once it breaks you can’t tape it back together with the excuse, the words “I’m sorry.”  Forgiveness is a strong part of relationships, but betrayal is not part of this equation. You can be forgiven, but that doesn’t mean you get to have the same benefits you had before just because you apologized. Murderers apologize, but their crime is permanent, and so is the punishment.

Good luck on your next relationship. Make sure it’s done right the first time.

Thanks for visiting my blog.

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Filed under Marriage + Love

Alan and Amy

An abecedarian, for those who know what that is…  Written for my best friend who decided in her late 30s that she wanted a baby (and wasn’t sure if she could actually have them)–I still claim her as my ultimate Baby Momma. Names had been changed. lol

Alan and Amy almost had another abortion or

baby, but because birth

control can cure conception with Christian conviction

Daddy decided to do

everything every

first time father who forgoes fatherhood

in order to gain a foothold in the grabbing of goods

and houses, he hated to have to heavily suffer

indefinitely, see, initially, incomes are interrupted

just by jumping in to join the generations of Joneses

or Karens and Kens having kids, he

liked

making money, making love, moving on the minute

never needing to nullify nymphatic normalities

or otherwise order takeout food out of owning

priorities… Parenthood pains pauses the

quality of life for quintessentially quaint queens and kings

or royalties for wrong reasons other than right

see, single sex spells sin since suffering stays

true to traditions of taming tainted temptations

Amy understood that it was unbearable to usurp the ulterior

veracity of vaculess valueless vanity

when will Alan and Amy wave to the wind and

accept the vex of the expected outcome of unprotected sex?

Amy yells to Ya’Allah, Yaweh, Yehova–yearning to yield a yes and gave birth

to Zion.

“Alan and Amy, for Flurrie Black”

 

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Filed under Poetry

I Was Halfway There (Poem for Alicia Khan)

A good friend of mine lost his wife.

He’s an old friend, an old martial arts student. When he married, he asked me to pen a poem–so I wrote two. One an ode to him, the other, one to his wife. This was only a few years ago, and earlier this year I hear that every man’s fear occurred… That “Till-Death-Do-We-Part” is pushed. I’m dropping tears as I write this, because while I don’t know his wife–never met her in fact (they live out of the area)–but I know and love him, and my heart hurts for him.

Those “lady-killers”/polyamorous types long for what he found, and my friend Kashif has never suffered the misfortune of looking for love in the wrong places, chasing dream after dream after dream, and then 7 marriages later you find yourself still alone. Waiting to be swept off your feet as some woman did, years ago, and like a cocaine addict looking for that first high that will never come back–and alternate between having your heart  broken and breaking someone else’s heart. Then one day, you look around. You’re no longer good looking, you’re no longer young, no longer traveling baggage-free, you’re no longer desirable, and you’re no longer capable of finding that perfect woman because even if you did, she wouldn’t want your old, broken, tainted-history ass.

But enough about me.

My friend Kashif found the woman of his dreams at 25, and traded in the bachelor’s life happily because he knew there was nothing else he wanted but to be in her presence. And he asked me to take his feelings and describe them in ways he could not.

So Alicia, you perfumed Kashif’s life and your memory will leave him forever defined by the fact that he was fortunate to have been your husband. It breaks my soul to know that you will now only be held by him in his dreams.

Poems take our thoughts and feelings and are a way for others to enjoy them. This is for Kashif and Alicia.

i was halfway there

existing somewhere

between boy-meets-girl

and baby plans

you’re my wife, i’m your man

raising babies and

baby, i want to spend my life with you

it is between a boyhood crush

and everlasting love

between sold on the idea

that she is the one

and i would sell my soul

to keep her on this earth one more day

it is the space in time

somewhere between “how do you do?”

and “i do”

it is the place that lovers seem

to forget when they fight

the days when a man longed

to be with her for long days

and during sleepless nights

the days when a man checked

his cell phone and email

every five minutes

and while most who are already there

take this time for granted

it feels too good to let it end

i’ve got to keep it going

for the long haul

it’s bordering obsession, i greed you;

i want it all

and we

have yet to evolve to the level

where individual souls conjoin

to form one unit

i dare not call this love yet

but lust is just to primitive a work

to describe it

she has yet to experience

what it feels like to to have her soul

penetrated by true manhood

i anxiously anticipate the arrival

of opportunities to show her

how heavily and heated heartfelt works

can hold down her heartache

till it subsides

i want to ride her dreams into reality

fulfill forgotten wishes

so that the next time she’s in bed with a man

she’ll be laying with

a man.

and the next time she’s in bed with a man

she’ll be laying with

her man.

a man who does not give in

to his mind when his body lies

a man who can look into her soul

seeing past breasts and thighs

a man who appreciates the beauty existing

behind her eyes

i’m feeling her like a good massage

i can feel her thinking of me

i can read her mind

i can hear her before she calls me

when she’s hungry

i feed her my time

leaving me never thirsty

i drink the juices poured from her heart

every time she speaks to me

when i sleep, i dream:

KA

Keep her Always

KA

Kneeling At her feet

KA

King of her Affection

KA

Kindly Assure me she’ll be mine forever—

forever sweet

KA

Kashif and Alicia

my greatest accomplishment

the achievement that brings me the most satisfying sense of completeness—

i adore you

i was found between the like

and the love

down below

and above

but it was temporary;

and it felt too good to end

i needed us to get out from between that place

evolve to the next level

because, baby, you complete me.

Kashif and Alicia Khan

© Mustafa Gatdula 2006

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Filed under Marriage + Love, Poetry